What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 39 The Last Warmth Before the Battle!

On the continent of Faerûn

You may question the strength of the Harpists' Alliance, but you must never presume to know their determination to fight evil!

This statement finds its most vivid interpretation in the life of the bard Omir.

He made the decision in almost an instant.

He didn't even ask about the number of enemies, seemingly never considering his own safety.

It's as if these problems are insignificant in the face of the fight against evil.

"It's just a pity that the goblins will attack tomorrow."

"There wasn't enough time, otherwise my harpist companions would have been more than happy to deal with these ugly and rude greenskins!"

Blacksmith Gron looked up at his cousin, his face beaming with pride.

He patted Omir's muscular calf hard, then turned and looked triumphantly at the thief Maurice, who had been standing silently in the shadows.

"See that!"

Groon's voice carried a clear sense of triumph.

"I told you long ago, my cousin won't just leave the goblins to their fate!"

The thief Maurice did not respond, but simply turned his head away with a cold smile and a look of disdain on his face.

Richard stood to the side, his pale golden eyes calmly watching Omir.

Level 7 Bard.

This level would be considered a core group within the Harpists' League.

If it's reliable...

His addition will indeed provide considerable assistance to the defense of Blackrock Town, especially in such a large-scale defensive battle.

The presence of bards always brings some unexpected surprises.

The bard Omir's gaze swept over the members of the adventure party, and he suddenly noticed a beautiful blonde figure.

"Oh! My dear lady!"

"You are like the dawn breaking through the dust, so dazzling and radiant that I can't take my eyes off you!"

Omir's eyes lit up instantly, as if he had discovered a priceless treasure.

He approached Sister Sharon almost as if dancing, his right hand on his chest and his left hand making a sincere invitation.

"Would you mind joining me for dinner tonight?"

"I can play your latest composition, the Star Sonata, exclusively for you. Even the elven nobles of Silvermoon City would be moved to tears upon hearing it!"

Everyone on and around the wall, including the blacksmith Gronn, stared in disbelief at the scene.

At this critical moment of war preparedness and life-or-death situation.

This bard actually had the nerve to strike up a conversation?!

Sister Sharon was startled by the bard's sudden action and instinctively took a step back, shrinking behind Reverend Richard.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I have prayers to do tonight."

The bard was rejected to his face, but he was not discouraged or embarrassed at all; his charming smile remained on his face.

"Oh, that's a real shame!"

"If you're free another day..."

"I'm ready to serve you anytime."

After his actions, Avel frowned, feeling that he was somewhat unreliable.

Even the charismatic paladin, Kro, was shocked by his thick skin and couldn't help but click his tongue in amazement.

"I really hope this bard's skills are as impressive as his silver tongue!"

The bard Omir, basking in the attention, patted the blacksmith Grom on the shoulder.

"Alright, the tavern in town can stay open."

"I was inspired by something along the way and composed a new piece. Let's make it the grand finale of our pre-battle mobilization performance tonight!"

Even the usually honest and simple-minded Gelong became somewhat shy because of his cousin's personality.

"I'm sorry, there's no cocktail party tonight!"

Richard suddenly spoke, instantly extinguishing the bard's enthusiasm.

"What?"

"If Blackrock Town fails to hold tomorrow, won't we be left without even enjoying our last moments of entertainment!"

"This is too cruel!"

These words, like a spark thrown into a hot oil pan, instantly ignited the last bit of patience in Avel!

"What did you say?!"

She took a sudden step forward, raised her staff, and the resonant crystal at the top of the staff burst forth with dazzling light.

Reverend Richard had worked so hard to build morale, but this bard was spouting nonsense, talking about entertainment before death!

This is absolutely absurd!

But before she could even speak...

"We will win!"

A calm yet firm voice interrupted her.

Richard looked up, his golden pupils fixed on Omir, his eyes showing no anger, only an unwavering determination like a rock.

"We will win!"

"I won't be getting my last meal, but once we successfully defeat the army of the Supreme God tomorrow, I can organize a victory celebration."

Richard's voice, like a tangible promise, reached everyone's ears.

The bard squinted at Richard, remained silent for a long time, and then suddenly grinned.

"Then I'll be the grand finale!"

Omir raised his lute, the strings vibrating at his fingertips.

"And I'm going to sing for three days and three nights!"

-

Night was falling.

After half a day of almost frantic preparations, most of the townspeople, except for the guards on night watch, had returned home.

Richard walked along the deserted street, his lonely figure stretching longer on the stone pavement under the moonlight.

He gazed at the houses with their lights on, and through the windows covered with coarse cloth, he could see silhouettes of families embracing tightly inside, their tender whispers reaching his ears.

There was no deliberate attempt to be sentimental; it was just like any other day, with her talking about trivial matters at home.

Under such intense pressure of crisis, no one can sleep peacefully tonight.

No one knows if they will see the sun rise the day after tomorrow, so we cherish the warm moments of being with our families all the more.

Richard's footsteps traversed every corner of Blackrock Town, finally stopping at the highest point of the wall.

The view here is expansive, overlooking the entire town and extending to the distant, dark forest to the southeast, which resembles a crouching behemoth.

He waits here for the first rays of dawn.

Just then.

A light footstep sounded behind him, and a sacrificial cloak suddenly appeared on his shoulder.

Richard looked up and saw Sister Sharon standing beside him.

The moonlight shone on her long golden hair, like flowing silver light, and her blue eyes, like the morning sun, shone exceptionally bright in the night.

Sister Sharon noticed Richard's gaze, a smile curving her lips, and she unusually teased him.

"What's wrong?"

"Not the one you expected?"

Richard listened to the nun's teasing and shook his head with a light laugh.

"There have been a lot of outsiders in town lately, have you been influenced by them?"

Sharon didn't answer, but suddenly turned around and looked into the shadows in the corner.

"Come out!"

"I know you're there!"

After a brief silence.

A slender figure slowly emerged from the corner.

Her long, silvery-white hair cascaded down like moonlight, and her translucent skin was as dazzling as fine jade, even surpassing the beauty of Lady Serene.

She no longer looked like a drow elf, but had reverted to her true appearance.

As a woman herself, Sharon couldn't help but be secretly amazed when she first saw Avel's face.

As expected of someone from the Ansvenka family, he certainly has a handsome appearance!

Richard saw that Avel dared to show his true face in front of Sharon, but Sharon was not surprised by this, and a knowing look flashed in her eyes.

"So you two already know each other?"

After shedding her disguise, Avel always exudes a faint sense of shyness.

I guess so.

Sharon sat on the stone steps beside the wall, her long golden hair falling over her shoulders, her hands folded on her knees, her posture dignified and serene, like a person praying before a holy icon.

Avel sat directly on the cold stone slab, his silver hair falling casually to the ground.

The two women sat down on either side of Richard.

No one spoke; everyone was enjoying this hard-won tranquility.

I do not know how long it has been

Sharon suddenly spoke softly, breaking the silence.

"Pastor Richard, if you were to leave Blackrock Town someday, where would you most like to go?"

The nun turned her head, her jewel-like blue eyes fixed on Richard's profile.

This question came as a surprise.

Some of them were even out of place.

After all, they are standing on the edge of a life-or-death precipice, and talking about the future seems too extravagant.

But Sharon's eyes were serious, not joking, as if this question was very important to her.

Hearing this, Avel also quietly pricked up his ears.

She remained in the same position, her silver hair covering half of her face, but her gaze secretly turned toward Richard, her expression exceptionally focused.

Richard remained silent for a moment.

The night breeze ruffled the black hair on his forehead, and his golden pupils shimmered with complex light in the gradually brightening morning light.

"I might visit the ruins of Netheril, this forgotten ancient magical empire, which is steeped in legend."

Upon hearing the name, Avel's eyes lit up, and his heart leaped with uncontrollable joy.

But before she could be happy for long, Richard continued.

"It could also be Waterdeep. The church and temple summoned me a long time ago."

This time, it was Sister Sharon's turn to show a change in expression.

In her dawn-blue eyes, a faint hint of expectation, one that she herself was unaware of, was revealed.

Richard didn't notice the two women's reactions. He continued to gaze into the distance, his voice calm yet firm.

In short, there are many possibilities.

"But right now, all I want is to protect Blackrock Town!"

He gazed at the rising sun in the east, while the two women turned their heads away, silently watching Richard.

As the first rays of dawn fall.

In the distant Howling Mountains.

A massive, dark army of supreme gods surged forth like a tidal wave.